Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. Thames said not another word, but marched boldly towards him, and seized him by the collar. You will have a bungalow to yourself," continued McClintock, "and your morning meal will be your own affair. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill.
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